


Necessary Equipment

by wombuttress



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, Trans Female Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 07:11:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5958361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wombuttress/pseuds/wombuttress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Morrigan has something to ask of Tabris. Tabris has some news to break to Morrigan. Also, some feelings to admit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessary Equipment

**Author's Note:**

> in this timeline, tabris and alistair were previously in a relationship, which ended at the landsmeet.

“Let me just clarify this,” Warden Tabris said. “You want me to convince Alistair to have sex with you, so that he can impregnate you with a demonic old god baby—and this will somehow save our lives?”

“Tis correct,” the witch said. “Though it is not a demon. The child will be uncorrupted.”

Tabris shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. “Yeah, Morrigan, see, about that…”

“I understand that recent events brings complication into this,” Morrigan said quickly. “But surely some measure of awkwardness is worth your life? I suggest you go and speak to him _now.”_

“It's not that, Morrigan." Tabris chewed her lip. "Talking, I'm good at."

“Is it concerns about the magic, then? I would find it difficult bordering on the impossible to explain such a ritual in detail to a non-mage, and we have no time. We march tomorrow morning. If you must know, yes, it is magic your chantry would call forbidden, but what does it matter if it is life or death? Do you truly wish to leave such things up to chance?”

Tabris shrugged. “Magic is magic, and I don't give a damn what the Chantry says. Besides, I trust you, Morrigan. We’re friends.” _Though you’re acting awfully cagey and distant for a friend right now._ She frowned.

The witch’s face had gone ever-so-briefly soft at being called a friend, but she carefully schooled it back into an expression of icy urgency. “Then what is the problem?” she said impatiently.

Tabris pursed her lips and stared at the ceiling. “Alistair doesn’t really have the equipment to impregnate you.”

“I…what?”

She grimaced. “I doubt he’d want me to tell you, so if you could maybe not mention I said this…”

Morrigan blinked. “I...did not anticipate this." She cast her eyes to the ground, desperately concealing a rising panic. "I cannot use Riordan. He is too corrupted. Perhaps--I could modify the ritual, add something new--perhaps a solution lie in blood magic--"

"Morrigan--"

The witch looked up at her, nostrils flaring. "Do not _Morrigan_ me! I will not allow you to die when I can prevent it! If it must be Riordan, for there to be a chance, then I will attempt it! Go and speak to him now!"

“Actually, Morrigan, I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Tabris was definitely blushing now, though she was reasonably sure Morrigan wouldn’t be able to tell due to the darkness of her skin. Which was ridiculous, because she was a soon-to-be-legendary hero, glorious uniter of the elves, dwarves and mages, Ferelden’s queen-maker, unflappable darkspawn-slayer, fearless leader of their little party, and she had _absolutely no reason at all_ to be blushing at this time.

Never mind the rather personal information she was going to be confessing to an extremely beautiful half-dressed woman, who she was currently alone with.

“Whyever should it not be necessary?”

Tabris unstrapped her twin shortswords from her back and carefully laid them against the wall, and casually shut the door with her foot.

“Because Alistair might not have the, uh, necessary equipment, but I, as a matter of fact, do.”

“…Oh.”

Morrigan was looking at her, head tilted slightly, and Tabris could imagine she was seeing her differently. The hardness of her jaw, the smallness of her breasts, the low and scratchy pitch of her voice—all things Tabris didn’t mind about herself at all, not anymore—but _still._

“So, are we having sex, then, or..?” Tabris said lightly.

Morrigan looked to be still processing the new information for a few moments, and then, slowly, nodded. “Yes, I suppose we are.”

Tabris could not quite suppress the erratic leap of excitement her heart gave at that.

How long had it been since she’d woken naked in Morrigan’s bed, with the witch herself keeping a careful watch on her as she slept? Honestly, what was she supposed to have made of that? Naked, in a strange and ridiculously beautiful woman’s bed. The whole miserable affair of the Joining and Ostagar temporarily driven from her mind, because, well, _wow—_ at least until the sniffley sounds of Alistair’s misery carried from outside and she’d had to go and check on him and maybe cheer him up, somehow.

And then Morrigan was travelling with them, however unwillingly, and always talking about how weak and pathetic men were, and how Tabris was so much stronger and better than any man, and—well—she’d assumed! And hoped! She could admit that. And then had come the interminable months of attempting to woo the witch. Constant gifts of jewelry and dark magical artifacts. Long talks about family and attachment by the fire. Shit, she’d even killed her dragon mom for her! You’d think that kind of effort would have deserved some sort of attention—at least an acknowledgement!

But Morrigan had not even noticed. And meanwhile Alistair was giving her the puppy eyes, and he was just so young and sad, and okay, he was a man, and a shem, and of noble blood, but he’d been so terribly earnest and sweet and then there was that whole stunt with the rose, and what with one thing or another, _that_ had happened--for a while, anyway. And Morrigan wasn’t interested, anyway. So Tabris had quietly shoved the feelings under the rug, and gently enjoyed the view of Morrigan she habitually got with her modest height.

“I hope this won’t be too—uncomfortable for you,” Morrigan said, uncomfortably.

“Man, you have no idea,” Tabris muttered, starting to unbuckle some of the less wieldy pieces of her armor. “Should I buy you dinner first?”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Joke, Morrigan. Joke.”

“Ah. Yes. Tis so.”

“Hey—Morrigan.” Tabris had a realization, struggling to free herself of her left pauldron. “You’ve been with women before, right?”

Morrigan, she noticed, was still fully dressed. Or at least as fully dressed as Morrigan ever was. “No,” she said simply.

Tabris stopped mid-disrobement. “What, seriously?”

Morrigan made an annoyed face. “I had simply…never considered….”

It was like being hit over the head with a rock.

_Never considered?_

Tabris started laughing.

“Tis not funny,” Morrigan protested.

“No, of course not,” Tabris said breathlessly, wiping a tear from her eyes. “It’s just…I totally thought--you liked women? Exclusively? And were deliberately ignoring my desperate attempts at flirtation? ”

Morrigan was silent for a moment. “Those were…flirtations?”

Tabris remained doubled over, hands on her knees. “I must have spent a good fifty sovereigns on jewelry for you! I was so embarrassing.”

“Well--you didn't--" Morrigan floundered. "You also made it a habit of purchasing expensive paintings for the Qunari,” she said indignantly, and yes, that was a blush _much_ more noticeable on someone as pale as her. “Not to mention all those shoes and flowers for the Chantry sister, and the caustic spirits for the dwarf. I had supposed that was just one of your many charming quirks.”

 _Charming?_ “Yeah, well,” Tabris shrugged, trying not to smile, “I guess I thought you’d notice. I didn’t think…” She laughed awkwardly. “You really never even thought about it?”

“Flemeth raised me to predate on the men who wandered into the wilds. She did not…raise me to consider my desires.” Morrigan looked, for a moment, vulnerable. “I sometimes think I do not even know what they are.”

Tabris hesitated, standing there in nothing but a tunic and her mother’s boots, and then patted Morrigan on the elbow. “Hey, well, you still have time, right? She’s dead now. Even if she comes back, I’ll just kill her for you again, right?”

“Time,” Morrigan repeated. “No, I do not think I have much of that at all.”

“Well.” Tabris bit her lip. “There’s tonight.”

“That there is.”

Morrigan backed up a few paces, bumping into the bed and sitting. She looked halfway between nervous and predatory. Tabris advanced, leaning over her, planting her hands on either side of her hips.

She was very close, her eyes very golden—and not just a bit heated. 

"I didn't think you were embarrassing," she said suddenly.

"Good," Tabris said, leaning in. "I'll keep that up."

**Author's Note:**

> sorry im useless at smut. if anyone wants to write the smut sequel they can do it but i wont.  
> [my tumblr](http://gayspacejew.tumblr.com/)  
> [my oc blog](http://pile-of-dragon-filth.tumblr.com/)


End file.
